


Exorcism

by DeadbeatDog



Category: Rick and Morty, c137cest - Fandom
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Angst, Blood and Gore, Demonic Possession, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Incest, M/M, Murder, Slow Burn, Stockholm Syndrome, lord have mercy on my soul
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-17 15:54:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13662279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeadbeatDog/pseuds/DeadbeatDog
Summary: Rick, a once famous demonologist and scientist after dying takes over Morty's body in order to be reborn as a demon. However multiple rituals to summon him has failed and it has forced Morty to live day by day with a demon controlling his body whenever he feels like it.





	Exorcism

**Author's Note:**

> You possessed me.  
> You controlled me.  
> Said you loved me.  
> Said you'd kill me.

Morty had not remembered the last time he had a stable home to rest. Everything seemed fine when he was just living with his family. He remembered the mornings when his mother, Beth called him down for breakfast. Summer could complain to Morty to eat faster or else they’ll be late. His dad, Jerry, complaining about the lack of stable work as always. Everything seemed normal from the arguments to the complaints and the constant bullying and disrespect of his father. Even though he didn’t have the fondest memories at the dining room it was the ones he missed the most.

He should have saw it _coming._

The nightmares, the voices calling out from the darkness, the visions and the whispers. The way his hand would move and contort without his knowing. The days where he woke up naked upon his bed, his room smelled of his own sex and blood.

 

“I n-need to fucking get out, Morty. _Let me out._ **_Let me out!_** ”

 

It was the last words he heard before his world turned upside down. Morty’s parents were found murdered; their heads cut cleaned off and their bodies dangled off of a bathtub like swings in a playground. Around the house their blood used to paint unknown pictures on the walls. It seemed from the police reports that it was satanic symbols. From the research done by the late Mr. Sanchez, summoning signs. A spell. A single spell but that didn't work it seemed. Morty had woken to the screams of his sister, Summer. Her body was shivering as she was covered in blood. Morty had no idea what to do. His body was shaking as he froze like a deer in headlights. He was a coward. A weak spineless coward.

He looked upon the table as banging was heard from the door. To his sight he beheld the heads of their mother and father. Eyes closed and peaceful as if they had known no evil and had not known any pain.

 

“N-no it wasn't-”

“No. It wasn't me. I was just sleeping.”

“It was Summer, it was all her fault.”

_“She was to blame.”_

 

It had all seemed like a nightmare to him. The beheading of his parents in their own bed, draining their bodies and slowly but surely painting upon all of the walls. The mumbles of death flowing from his lips as he kept on going like a maddened beast. He wasn't in control. He didn't understand. Morty was just a young boy. How would he understand? That his body was shared with someone else?

He was never able to confess his crime. Every time. Every time he tired it was meant with a cold and emotionless voice. The vulnerable feeling of being unable to do nothing yet watching the words flying from his mouth like a sweet summer breeze. Something else, had taken over him.

That something had lied willingly to the law that his innocent sister, _Summer was to blame._ It costed her freedom. The look of betrayal on her face when he unwillingly testified against her burned into his memories and the thing within him had no hint of remorse for what he had done.

It had costed him his family and his freedom. The past few years after that night he slowly began to realize what he was dealing with. A sociopathic demon from hell had taken over his body. It wasn't just any demon. It was Rick. He had barely heard his name before, but his mother had mentioned him from time to time to be her missing in action father. Too busy for his studies to be with his family when he was alive. Now he was within him for some god forsaken reason. It felt unclean, uneasy and most of all terrifying. Morty had the benefit of Rick giving him great intelligence at the cost of his own freedom. The most sad part is that Morty's body was no longer just his to use.

Over the years his appearance shifted and his body grew into something no longer his. The tender age of eighteen he looked like he was lanky, slender and malnourished. His hair disheveled and undone, his eyes look tired and weak as if he’s seen war. Morty’s growth stunned to a mere five foot three early on within his teenage years due to stress and paranoia causing him to miss sleep. 

He had been transferred from foster home to foster home. Each time it was a different reason for him to be sent back, he was too problematic, they said. He was too rowdy, they said. He was too disrespectful, they said. He was too much, they said. Just maybe he was. They couldn’t handle his demons.

His demon. Rick Sanchez.

____________

A chilly winter morning. Morty looked outside of the window to find the world outside of the yellow moving trashcan of a school bus turn into a world of white. The trees reaching and stretching kissing the dark blue gloomy sky as parts of it remained frozen within time. The dark brown bark displaying cracks of white ice from the snowstorm the night before. Houses stood out like sore thumbs some of them. Some had large front yards empty and void of life. Some toys here and there he found as if it was abandoned to the elements. The snow had consumed most of nature.

Morty noted some of those yards had fences. Each fence different from the last. Some had a vague ‘beware of dog’ sign. Some had wood; White Oak, Western Red Cedar, Black Locust...he had only found those three. He counted the number of times he saw a kid running in the snow, a pigeon resting on a tree’s branches, a dog barking at the outsiders. It was all a distraction. A distraction of what was going on in his torn mind.

 

‘Y-you haven’t been in this school in a f-fucking loooonnnnnggg asss time huh, Morty?’

Morty rolled his eyes before he whispered in a low and threatening tone of voice. “D-don’t f-f-f-fucking ruin this for me, R-rick.”

 

It was bad that he had a reputation at the schools around his area for being ‘the kid who’s sister murdered her parents in a satanic ritual’, but he was going back this old school of Harry Herpson High. The high school where as a freshman he was beaten, humiliated and cast aside. Morty groaned loudly and sunk within his chair. He didn’t want to go back there, he really didn’t. It was his last year of high school. Transferred mid semester due to being rehomed...again.

Morty was surprised when Jessica's parents decided to foster Morty. He knew that he wasn't the best kid around the Orphanage. He had a reputation of being 'problematic'. He had episodes, well...they weren't episodes to Morty...more like times Rick choose to rear his ugly mug. Rick would have times were he was too bored watching Morty fail and struggle everyday life and somehow make it either worse or better. It was always the former. Morty was given medication for these episodes believing it was some form of mental disorder but both him and Rick knew the truth of what was really happening.

When he saw Jessica the first time in almost three years he felt like he was going to drop dear. She was beyond beautiful within his tired worn amber eyes. Her body held womanly curves, her hair had grown longer into beautiful curls which he noted wonderfully brought out her emerald eyes. He did his best when he first meet the Willsons that he was extra behaved. It seemed a easy job for them, Morty was old enough for them to kick him out in six months. Morty had assumed that was the reason why he was fostered...besides the fat check they would get every month for taking care of his sorry ass.

Morty had not cared nonetheless. He got to see Jessica on the bus every morning now. He turned to admire her sight, thinking of all the things he could do now that they were living under the same roof. It was a realization that Rick was still there...in his own body. He sank back in his lonesome bus seat before he went back to threatening the creature within him.

“I already e-enough shit from everyone because of what y-you make me do.” He whispered to him once again. To the outsiders, it seemed like he was talking to no one, akward. “So d-don’t t-take over my body. N-no attention.”

 

‘Aw f-ff-uuurrrgghh-cking c’mon Morty! At least me have a _l-little_ fun.’

“Your idea of 'fun', g-got us kicked out of the Janson’s house a year ago. Th-they were _nice_ you know, Rick.”

‘Y-you get caught poisoning an annoying douchebag with his allergies and y-you don’t hear the end of it. So much for a little app-appreciation huh, Morty?’

 

Morty rolled his eyes and continued to stare at the window. He heard the sounds of Rick talking about how annoying the Janson’s were to him as he began to doze off to sleep for a quick nap.

It was going to be a very long day.

**Author's Note:**

> My first fic! My first C137cest fic no less. I'm still new to writing both Rick and Morty, so the characterization might be a bit wonky and all over the place. However, I hope you enjoyed it anyway! Please remember to leave some feedback in the comments as I'm always looking to improve my writing. <3 Thank you so much for reading!


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